Whosoever enjoys the sight of an honest man doing his work well, would have enjoyed the sight of Tom Thurnall for the next two months. In-doors all the morning, and out of doors all the afternoon, was that shrewd and good-natured visage, calling up an answering smile on every face, and leaving every heart a little lighter1 than he found it. Puzzling enough it was, alike to Heale and to Headley, how Tom contrived2, as if by magic, to gain every one's good word—their own included. For Frank, in spite of Tom's questionable3 opinions, had already made all but a confidant of the Doctor; and Heale, in spite of envy and suspicion, could not deny that the young man was a very valuable young man, if he wasn't given so much to those new-fangled notions of the profession.
By which term Heale indicated the, to him, astounding4 fact, that Tom charged the patients as little, instead of as much as possible, and applying to medicine the principles of an enlightened political economy, tried to increase the demand by cheapening the supply.
"Which is revolutionary doctrine5, sir," said Heale to Lieutenant6 Jones, over the brandy-and-water, "and just like what the Cobden and Bright lot used to talk, and have been the ruin of British agriculture, though don't say I said so, because of my Lord Minchampstead. But, conceive my feelings, sir, as the father of a family, who have my bread to earn, this very morning.—In comes old Dame7 Penaluna (which is good pay I know, and has two hundred and more out on a merchant brig) for something; and what was my feelings, sir, to hear this young party deliver himself—'Well, ma'am,' says he, as I am a living man, 'I can cure you, if you like, with a dozen bottles of lotion8, at eighteenpence a-piece; but if you'll take my advice, you'll buy two pennyworth of alum down street, do what I tell you with it, and cure yourself.' It's robbery, sir, I say, all these out-of-the-way cheap dodges10, which arn't in the pharmacopoeia, half of them; it's unprofessional, sir—quackery."
"Tell you what, Doctor, robbery or none, I'll go to him to-morrow, d'ye see, if I live as long, for this old ailment11 of mine. I never told you of it, old pill and potion, for fear of a swinging bill: but just grinned and bore it, d'ye see."
"There it is again," cries Heale in despair. "He'll ruin me."
"No, he won't, and you know it."
"What d'ye think he served me last week? A young chap comes in, consumptive, he said, and I dare say he's right—he is uncommonly12 'cute about what he calls diagnosis13. Says he, 'You ought to try Carrageen moss14. It's an old drug, but it's a good one.' There was a drawer full of it to his hand; had been lying there any time this ten years: I go to open it; but what was my feelings when he goes on, as cool as a cucumber—'And there's bushels of it here,' says he, 'on every rock; so if you'll come down with me at low tide this afternoon, I'll show you the trade, and tell you how to boil it.' I thought I should have knocked him down."
"But you didn't," said Jones, laughing in every muscle of his body. "Tell you what, Doctor, you've got a treasure; he's just getting back your custom, d'ye see, and when he's done that, he'll lay on the bills sharp enough. Why, I hear he's up at Mrs. Vavasour's every day."
"And not ten shillings' worth of medicine sent up to the house any week."
"He charges for his visits, I suppose."
"Not he! If you'll believe me, when I asked him if he wasn't going to, he says, says he, that Mrs. Vavasour's company was quite payment enough for him."
"Shows his good taste. Why, what now, Mary?" as the maid opens the door.
"Mr. Thurnall wants Mr. Heale."
"Always wanting me," groans16 Heale, hugging his glass, "driving me about like any negro slave. Tell him to come in."
"Here, Doctor," says the Lieutenant, "I want you to prescribe for me, if you'll do it gratis17, d'ye see. Take some brandy and water."
"Good advice costs nothing," says Tom, filling; "Mr. Heale, read that letter."
And the Lieutenant details his ailments18, and their supposed cause, till Heale has the pleasure of hearing Tom answer—
"Fiddlesticks! That's not what's the matter with you. I'll cure you for half-a-crown, and toss you up double or quits.
"Oh!" groans Heale, as he spells away over the letter,—
"Lord Minchampstead having been informed by Mr. Armsworth that Mr. Thurnall is now in the neighbourhood of his estates of Pentremochyn, would feel obliged to him at his earliest convenience to examine into the sanitary19 state of the cottages thereon, which are said to be much haunted by typhus and other epidemics20, and to send him a detailed21 report, indicating what he thinks necessary for making them thoroughly22 healthy. Mr. Thurnall will be so good as to make his own charge."
"Well, Mr. Thurnall, you ought to turn a good penny by this," said Heale, half envious23 of Tom's connection, half contemptuous at his supposed indifference24 to gain.
"I'll charge what it's worth," said Tom. "Meanwhile, I hope you're going to see Miss Beer to-night."
"Couldn't you just go yourself, my dear sir? It is so late."
"No; I never go near young women. I told you so at first, and I stick to my rule. You'd better go, sir, on my word, or if she's dead before morning, don't say it's my fault."
"Did you ever hear a poor old man so tyrannised over?" said Heale, as Tom coolly went into the passage, brought in the old man's great coat and hat, arrayed him and marched him out, civilly, but firmly.
"Now, Lieutenant, I've half an hour to spare; let's have a jolly chat about the West Indies."
And Tom began with anecdote25 and joke, and the old seaman26 laughed till he cried, and went to bed vowing27 that there never was such a pleasant fellow on earth, and he ought to be physician to Queen Victoria.
Up at five the next morning, the indefatigable28 Tom had all his work done by ten; and was preparing to start for Pentremochyn, ere Heale was out of bed, when a customer came in who kept him half an hour.
He was a tall broad-shouldered young man, with a red face, protruding29 bull's eyes, and a moustachio. He was dressed in a complete suit of pink and white plaid, cut jauntily30 enough. A bright blue cap, a thick gold watch-chain, three or four large rings, a dog-whistle from his button-hole, a fancy cane31 in his hand, and a little Oxford32 meerschaum in his mouth, completed his equipment. He lounged in, with an air of careless superiority, while Tom, who was behind the counter, cutting up his day's provision of honey-dew, eyed him curiously33.
"Who are you, now? A gentleman? Not quite, I guess. Some squireen of the parts adjacent, and look in somewhat of a crapulocomatose state moreover. I wonder if you are the great Trebooze of Trebooze."
"I say," yawned the young gentleman, "where's old Heale?" and an oath followed the speech, as it did every other one herein recorded.
"The playing half of old Heale is in bed, and I'm his working half.
Can I do anything for you?"
"Cool fish," thought the customer. "I say—what have you got there?"
"Australian honey-dew. Did you ever smoke it?"
"I've heard of it; let's see:" and Mr. Trebooze—for it was he—put his hand across the counter unceremoniously, and clawed up some.
"Didn't know you sold tobacco here. Prime stuff. Too strong for me, though, this morning, somehow."
"Ah? A little too much claret last night? I thought so. We'll set that right in five minutes."
"Eh? How did you guess that?" asked Trebooze, with a larger oath than usual.
"Oh, we doctors are men of the world," said Tom, in a cheerful and insinuating34 tone, as he mixed his man a draught35.
"You doctors? You're a cock of a different hackle from old Heale, then."
"I trust so," said Tom.
"By George, I feel better already. I say, you're a trump36; I suppose you're Heale's new partner, the man who was washed ashore37!"
Tom nodded assent38;
"I say—How do you sell that honey-dew?"
"I don't sell it; I'll give you as much as you like, only you shan't smoke it till after dinner."
"Shan't?" said Trebooze, testy39 and proud.
"Not with my leave, or you'll be complaining two hours hence that I am a humbug40, and have done you no good. Get on your horse, and have four hours' gallop41 on the downs, and you'll feel like a buffalo42 bull by two o'clock."
Trebooze looked at him with a stupid curiosity and a little awe15. He saw that Tom's cool self-possession was not meant for impudence43; and something in his tone and manner told him that the boast of being "a man of the world" was not untrue. And of all kinds of men, a man of the world was the man of whom Trebooze stood most in awe. A small squireen, cursed with six or seven hundreds a year of his own, never sent to school, college, or into the army, he had grown up in a narrow circle of squireens like himself, without an object save that of gratifying his animal passions; and had about six years before, being then just of age, settled in life by marrying his housemaid—the only wise thing, perhaps, he ever did. For she, a clever and determined44 woman, kept him, though not from drunkenness and debt, at least from delirium45 tremens and ruin, and was, in her rough, vulgar way, his guardian46 angel—such a one at least, as he was worthy47 of. More than once has one seen the same seeming folly48 turn out in practice as wise a step as could well have been taken; and the coarse nature of the man, which would have crushed and ill-used a delicate and high-minded wife, subdued49 to something like decency50 by a help literally51 meet for it.
There was a pause. Trebooze fancied, and wisely, that the Doctor was a cleverer man than he, and of course would want to show it. So, after the fashion of a country squireen, he felt a longing52 to "set him down." "He's been a traveller, they say," thought he in that pugnacious53, sceptical spirit which is bred, not, as twaddlers fancy, by too extended knowledge, but by the sense of ignorance, and a narrow sphere of thought, which makes a man angry and envious of any one who has seen more than he.
"Buffalo bulls?" said he, half contemptuously; "what do you know about buffalo bulls?"
"I was one once myself," said Tom, "where I lived before."
Trebooze swore. "Don't you put your traveller's lies on me, sir."
"Well, perhaps I dreamt it," said Tom, placidly54; "I remember I dreamt at the same time that you were a grizzly55 bear, fourteen feet long, and wanted to eat me up: but you found me too tough about the hump ribs56."
Trebooze stared at his audacity57.
"You're a rum hand."
To which Tom made answer in the same elegant strain; and then began a regular word-battle of slang, in which Tom showed himself so really witty58 a proficient59, that Mr. Trebooze laughed himself into good-humour, and ended by—
"I say, you're a good fellow, and I think you and I shall suit."
Tom had his doubts, but did not express them.
"Come up this afternoon and see my child; Mrs. Trebooze thinks it's got swelled60 glands61, or some such woman's nonsense. Bother them, why can't they let the child alone, fussing and doctoring; and she will have you. Heard of you from Mrs. Vavasour, I believe. Our doctor and I have quarrelled, and she said, if I could get you, she'd sooner have you than that old rum-puncheon Heale. And then, you'd better stop and take pot-luck, and we'll make a night of it."
"I have to go round Lord Minchampstead's estates, and will take you on my way: but I'm afraid I shall be too dirty to have the pleasure of dining with Mrs. Trebooze coming back."
"Mrs. Trebooze! She must take what I like; and what's good enough for me is good enough for her, I hope. Come as you are—Liberty Hall at Trebooze;" and out he swaggered.
"Does he bully62 her?" thought Tom, "or is he hen-pecked, and wants to hide it? I'll see to-night, and play my cards accordingly."
All which Miss Heale had heard. She had been peeping and listening at the glass-door, and her mother also; for no sooner had Trebooze entered the shop, than she had run off to tell her mother the surprising fact, Trebooze's custom having been, for some years past, courted in vain by Heale. So Miss Heale peeped and peeped at a man whom she regarded with delighted curiosity, because he bore the reputation of being "such a naughty wicked man!" and "so very handsome too, and so distinguished63 as he looks!" said the poor little fool, to whose novel-fed imagination Mr. Trebooze was an ideal Lothario.
But the surprise of the two dames64 grew rapidly as they heard Tom's audacity towards the country aristocrat65.
"Impudent66 wretch67!" moaned Mrs. Heale to herself. "He'd drive away an angel if he came into the shop."
"Oh, ma! hear how they are going on now."
"I can't bear it, my dear. This man will be the ruin of us. His manners are those of the pot-house, when the cloven foot is shown, which it's his nature as a child of wrath68, and we can't expect otherwise."
"Oh, ma! do you hear that Mr. Trebooze has asked him to dinner?"
"Nonsense!"
But it was true.
"Well! if there ain't the signs of the end of the world, which is? All the years your poor father has been here, and never so much as send him a hare, and now this young penniless interloper; and he to dine at Trebooze off purple and fine linen69."
"There is not much of that there, ma; I'm sure they are poor enough, for all his pride; and as for her—"
"Yes, my dear; and as for her, though we haven't married squires70, my dear, yet we haven't been squires' housemaids, and have adorned71 our own station, which was good enough for us, and has no need to rise out of it, nor ride on Pharaoh's chariot-wheels after filthy72 lucre—"
Miss Heale hated poor Mrs. Trebooze with a bitter hatred73, because she dreamed insanely that, but for her, she might have secured Mr. Trebooze for herself. And though her ambition was now transferred to the unconscious Tom, that need not make any difference in the said amiable74 feeling.
But that Tom was a most wonderful person, she had no doubt. He had conquered her heart—so she informed herself passionately75 again and again; as was very necessary, seeing that the passion, having no real life of its own, required a good deal of blowing to keep it alight. Yes, he had conquered her heart, and he was conquering all hearts likewise. There must be some mystery about him—there should be. And she settled in her novel-bewildered brain, that Tom must be a nobleman in disguise—probably a foreign prince exiled for political offences. Bah! perhaps too many lines have been spent on the poor little fool; but as such fools exist, and people must be as they are, there is no harm in drawing her; and in asking, too—Who will help those young girls of the middle class who, like Miss Heale, are often really less educated than the children of their parents' workmen; sedentary, luxurious76, full of petty vanity, gossip, and intrigue77, without work, without purpose, except that of getting married to any one who will ask them—bewildering brain and heart with novels, which, after all, one hardly grudges78 them; for what other means have they of learning that there is any fairer, nobler life possible, at least on earth, than that of the sordid79 money-getting, often the sordid puffery and adulteration, which is the atmosphere of their home? Exceptions there are, in thousands, doubtless; and the families of the great city tradesmen, stand, of course, on far higher ground, and are often far better educated, and more high-minded, than the fine ladies, their parents' customers. But, till some better plan of education than the boarding-school is devised for them; till our towns shall see something like in kind to, though sounder and soberer in quality than, the high schools of America; till in country villages the ladies who interest themselves about the poor will recollect80 that the farmers' and tradesmen's daughters are just as much in want of their influence as the charity children, and will yield a far richer return for their labour, though the one need not interfere81 with the other; so long will England be full of Miss Heales; fated, when they marry, to bring up sons and daughters as sordid and unwholesome as their mothers.
Tom worked all that day in and out of the Pentremochyn cottages, noting down nuisances and dilapidations: but his head was full of other thoughts; for he had received, the evening before, news which was to him very important, for more reasons than one.
The longer he stayed at Aberalva, the longer he felt inclined to stay. The strange attraction of Grace had, as we have seen, something to do with his purpose: but he saw, too, a good opening for one of those country practices, in which he seemed more and more likely to end. At his native Whitbury, he knew, there was no room for a fresh medical man; and gradually he was making up his mind to settle at Aberalva; to buy out Heale, either with his own money (if he recovered it), or with money borrowed from Mark; to bring his father down to live with him, and in that pleasant wild western place, fold his wings after all his wanderings. And therefore certain news which he had obtained the night before was very valuable to him, in that it put a fresh person into his power, and might, if cunningly used, give him a hold upon the ruling family of the place, and on Lord Scoutbush himself. He had found out that Lucia and Elsley were unhappy together; and found out, too, a little more than was there to find. He could not, of course, be a month among the gossips of Aberalva, without hearing hints that the great folks at the court did not always keep their tempers; for, of family jars, as of everything else on earth, the great and just law stands true:—"What you do in the closet, shall be proclaimed on the housetop."
But the gossips of Aberalva, as women are too often wont82 to do, had altogether taken the man's side in the quarrel. The reason was, I suppose, that Lucia, conscious of having fallen somewhat in rank, "held up her head" to Mrs. Trebooze and Mrs. Heale (as they themselves expressed it), and to various other little notabilities of the neighbourhood, rather more than she would have done had she married a man of her own class. She was afraid that they might boast of being intimate with her; that they might take to advising and patronising her as an inexperienced young creature; afraid, even, that she might be tempted83, in some unguarded moment, to gossip with them, confide84 her unhappiness to them, in the blind longing to open her heart to some human being; for there were no resident gentry85 of her own rank in the neighbourhood. She was too high-minded to complain much to Clara; and her sister Valencia was the very last person to whom she would confess that her run-away-match had not been altogether successful. So she lived alone and friendless, shrinking into herself more and more, while the vulgar women round mistook her honour for pride, and revenged themselves accordingly. She was an uninteresting fine lady, proud and cross, and Elsley was a martyr86. "So handsome and agreeable as he was—(and to do him justice, he was the former, and he could be the latter when he chose)—to be tied to that unsociable, stuck-up woman;" and so forth87.
All which Tom had heard, and formed his own opinion thereof; which was,—
"All very fine: but I flatter myself I know a little what women are made of; and this I know, that where man and wife quarrel, even if she ends the battle, it is he who has begun it. I never saw a case yet where the man was not the most in fault; and I'll lay my life John Briggs has led her a pretty life: what else could one expect of him?"
However, he held his tongue, and kept his eyes open withal whenever he went up to Penalva Court, which he had to do very often; for though he had cured the children of their ailments, yet Mrs. Vavasour was perpetually, more or less, unwell, and he could not cure her. Her low spirits, headaches, general want of tone and vitality88, puzzled him at first; and would have puzzled him longer, had he not settled with himself that their cause was to be sought in the mind, and not in the body; and at last, gaining courage from certainty, he had hinted as much to Miss Clara the night before, when she came down (as she was very fond of doing) to have a gossip with him in his shop, under the pretence89 of fetching medicine.
"I don't think I shall send Mrs. Vavasour any more, Miss Clara. There is no use running up a long bill when I do no good; and, what is more, suspect that I can do none, poor lady." And he gave the girl a look which seemed to say, "You had better tell me the truth; for I know everything already."
To which Clara answered by trying to find out how much he did know: but Tom was a cunninger diplomatist than she; and in ten minutes, after having given solemn promises of secresy, and having, by strong expressions of contempt for Mrs. Heale and the village gossips, made Clara understand that he did not at all take their view of the case, he had poured out to him across the counter all Clara's long-pent indignation and contempt.
"I never said a word of this to a living soul, sir; I was too proud, for my mistress's sake, to let vulgar people know what we suffered. We don't want any of their pity indeed; but you, sir, who have the feelings of a gentleman, and know what the world is, like ourselves—"
"Take care," whispered Tom; "that daughter of Heale's may be listening."
"I'd pull her hair about her ears if I caught her!" quoth Clara; and then ran on to tell how Elsley "never kept no hours, nor no accounts either; so that she has to do everything, poor thing; and no thanks either. And never knows when he'll dine, or when he'll breakfast, or when he'll be in, wandering in and out like a madman; and sits up all night, writing his nonsense. And she'll go down twice and three times a night in the cold, poor dear, to see if he's fallen asleep; and gets abused like a pickpocket90 for her pains (which was an exaggeration); and lies in bed all the morning, looking at the flies, and calls after her if his shoes want tying, or his finger aches; as helpless as the babe unborn; and will never do nothing useful himself, not even to hang a picture or move a chair, and grumbles91 at her if he sees her doing anything, because she ain't listening to his prosodies92, and snaps, and worrits, and won't speak to her sometimes for a whole morning, the brute93."
"But is he not fond of his children?"
"Fond? Yes, his way, and small thanks to him, the little angels! To play with 'em when they're good, and tell them cock-and-a-bull fairy tales—wonder why he likes to put such stuff into their heads—and then send 'em out of the room if they make a noise, because it splits his poor head, and his nerves are so delicate. Wish he had hers, or mine either, Doctor Thurnall; then he'd know what nerves was, in a frail94 woman, which he uses us both as his negro slaves, or would if I didn't stand up to him pretty sharp now and then, and give him a piece of my mind, which I will do, like the faithful servant in the parable95, if he kills me for it, Doctor Thurnall!"
"Does he drink?" asked Tom, bluntly.
"He!" she answered, in a tone which seemed to imply that even one masculine vice9 would have raised him in her eyes. "He's not man enough, I think; and lives on his slops, and his coffee, and his tapioca; and how's he ever to have any appetite, always a sitting about, heaped up together over his books, with his ribs growing into his backbone96?—If he'd only go and take his walk, or get a spade and dig in the garden, or anything but them everlasting97 papers, which I hates the sight of;" and so forth.
From all which Tom gathered a tolerably clear notion of the poor poet's state of body and mind; as a self-indulgent, unmethodical person, whose ill-temper was owing partly to perpetual brooding over his own thoughts, and partly to dyspepsia, brought on by his own effeminacy—in both cases, not a thing to be pitied or excused by the hearty98 and valiant99 Doctor. And Tom's original contempt for Vavasour took a darker form, perhaps one too dark to be altogether just.
"I'll tackle him, Miss Clara."
"I wish you would: I'm sure he wants some one to look after him just now. He's half wild about some review that somebody's been and done of him in The Times, and has been flinging the paper about the room, and calling all mankind vipers100 and adders101, and hooting102 herds—it's as bad as swearing, I say—and running to my mistress, to make her read it, and see how the whole world's against him, and then forbidding her to defile103 her eyes with a word of it; and so on, till she's been crying all the morning, poor dear!"
"Why not laughing at him?"
"Poor thing; that's where it all is: she's just as anxious about his poetry as he is, and would write it just as well as he, I'll warrant, if she hadn't better things to do; and all her fuss is, that people should 'appreciate' him. He's always talking about appreciating, till I hate the sound of the word. How any woman can go on so after a man that behaves as he does! but we're all soft fools, I'm afraid, Doctor Thurnall." And Clara began a languishing104 look or two across the counter, which made Tom answer to an imaginary Doctor Heale, whom he heard calling from within.
"Yes, Doctor! coming this moment, Doctor! Good-bye, Miss Clara. I must hear more next time; you may trust me, you know; secret as the grave, and always your friend, and your lady's too, if you will allow me to do myself such an honour. Coming, Doctor!"
And Tom bolted through the glass door, till Miss Clara was safe on her way up the street.
"Very well," said Tom to himself. "Knowledge is power: but how to use it? To get into Mrs. Vavasour's confidence, and show an inclination105 to take her part against her husband? If she be a true woman, she would order me out of the house on the spot, as surely as a fish-wife would fall tooth and nail on me as a base intruder, if I dared to interfere with her sacred right of being beaten by her husband when she chooses. No; I must go straight to John Briggs himself, and bind106 him over to keep the peace; and I think I know the way to do it."
So Tom pondered over many plans in his head that day; and then went to Trebooze, and saw the sick child, and sat down to dinner, where his host talked loud about the Treboozes of Trebooze, who fought in the Spanish Armada—or against it; and showed an unbounded belief in the greatness and antiquity107 of his family, combined with a historic accuracy about equal to that of a good old dame of those parts, who used to say "her family comed over the water, that she knew; but whether it were with the Conqueror108, or whether it were wi' Oliver, she couldn't exactly say!"
Then he became great on the subject of old county families in general, and poured out all the vials of his wrath on "that confounded upstart of a Newbroom, Lord Minchampstead," supplanting109 all the fine old blood in the country—"Why, sir, that Pentremochyn, and Carcarrow moors110 too (—good shooting there, there used to be), they ought to be mine, sir, if every man had his rights!" And then followed a long story; and a confused one withal, for by this time Mr. Trebooze had drunk a great deal too much wine, and as he became aware of the fact, became proportionately anxious that Tom should drink too much also; out of which story Tom picked the plain facts, that Trebooze's father had mortgaged Pentremochyn estate for more than its value, and that Lord Minchampstead had foreclosed; while some equally respectable uncle, or cousin, just deceased, had sold the reversion of Carcarrow to the same mighty111 Cotton Lord twenty years before. "And this is the way, sir, the land gets eaten up by a set of tinkers, and cobblers, and money-lending jobbers112, who suck the blood of the aristocracy!" The oaths we omit, leaving the reader to pepper Mr. Trebooze's conversation therewith, up to any degree of heat which may suit his palate.
Tom sympathised with him deeply, of course; and did not tell him, as he might have done, that he thought the sooner such cumberers of the ground were cleared off, whether by an encumbered113 estates' act, such as we may see yet in England, or by their own suicidal folly, the better it would be for the universe in general, and perhaps for themselves in particular. But he only answered with pleasant effrontery—
"Ah, my dear sir, I am sure there are hundreds of good sportsmen who can sympathise with you deeply. The wonder is, that you do not unite and defend yourselves. For not only in the West of England, but in Ireland, and in Wales, and in the north, too, if one is to believe those novels of Currer Bell's and her sister, there is a large and important class of landed proprietors114 of the same stamp as yourself, and exposed to the very same dangers. I wonder at times that you do not all join, and use your combined influence on the Government."
"The Government? All a set of Whig traitors115! Call themselves Conservative, or what they like. Traitors, sir! from that fellow Peel upwards—all combined to crush the landed gentry—ruin the Church—betray the country party—D'Israeli—Derby—Free trade—ruined, sir!—Maynooth—Protection—treason—help yourself, and pass the—you know, old fellow—"
And Mr. Trebooze's voice died away, and he slumbered116, but not softly.
The door opened, and in marched Mrs. Trebooze, tall, tawdry, and terrible.
"Mr. Trebooze! it's past eleven o'clock!"
"Hush117, my dear madam! He is sleeping so sweetly," said Tom, rising, and gulping118 down a glass, not of wine, but of strong ammonia and water. The rogue119 had put a phial thereof in his pocket that morning, expecting that, as Trebooze had said, he would be required to make a night of it,
She was silent; for to rouse her tyrant120 was more than she dare do. If awakened121, he would crave122 for brandy and water; and if he got that sweet poison, he would probably become furious. She stood for half a minute; and Tom, who knew her story well, watched her curiously.
"She is a fine woman: and with a far finer heart in her than that brute. Her eyebrow123 and eye, now, have the true Siddons' stamp; the great white forehead, and sharp-cut little nostril124, breathing scorn—and what a Siddons-like attitude!—I should like, madam, to see the child again before I go."
"If you are fit, sir," answered she.
"Brave woman; comes to the point at once, I am a poor doctor, madam, and not a country gentleman; and have neither money nor health to spend in drinking too much wine."
"Then why do you encourage him in it, sir? I had expected a very different sort of conduct from you, sir."
Tom did not tell her what she would not (no woman will) understand; that it is morally and socially impossible to escape from the table of a fool, till either he or you are conquered; and she was too shrewd to be taken in by commonplace excuses; so he looked her very full in the face, and replied a little haughtily125, with a slow and delicate articulation126, using his lips more than usual, and yet compressing them:—
"I beg your pardon, madam, if I have unintentionally displeased127 you: but if you ever do me the honour of knowing more of me, you will be the first to confess that your words are unjust. Do you wish me to see your son, or do you not?"
Poor Mrs. Trebooze looked at him, with an eye which showed that she had been accustomed to study character keenly, perhaps in self-defence. She saw that Tom was sober; he had taken care to prove that, by the way in which he spoke128; and she saw, too, that he was a better bred man than her husband, as well as a cleverer. She dropped her eye before his; heaved something very like a sigh; and then said, in her curt129, fierce tone, which yet implied a sort of sullen130 resignation—
"Yes; come up-stairs."
Tom went up, and looked at the boy again, as he lay sleeping. A beautiful child of four years old, as large and fair a child as man need see; and yet there was on him the curse of his father's sins; and Tom knew it, and knew that his mother knew it also.
"What a noble boy!" said he, after looking, not without honest admiration131, upon the sleeping child, who had kicked off his bed-clothes, and lay in a wild graceful132 attitude, as children are wont to lie; just like an old Greek statue of Cupid, "It all depends upon you, madam, now."
"On me?" she asked, in a startled, suspicious tone.
"Yes. He is a magnificent boy: but—I can only give palliatives. It depends upon your care now."
"He will have that, at least, I should hope," she said, nettled133.
"And on your influence ten years hence," went on Tom.
"My influence?"
"Yes; only keep him steady, and he may grow up a magnificent man. If not—you will excuse me—but you must not let him live as freely as his father; the constitutions of the two are very different."
"Don't talk so, sir. Steady? His father makes him drunk now, if he can; teaches him to swear, because it is manly—God help him and me!"
Tom's cunning and yet kind shaft134 had sped. He guessed that with a coarse woman like Mrs. Trebooze his best plan was to come as straight to the point as he could; and he was right. Ere half an hour was over, that woman had few secrets on earth which Tom did not know.
"Let me give you one hint before I go," said he at last. "Persuade your husband to go into a militia135 regiment136."
"Why? He would see so much company, and it would be so expensive."
"The expense would repay itself ten times over. The company which he would see would be sober company, in which he would be forced to keep in order. He would have something to do in the world; and he'd do it well. He is just cut out for a soldier, and might have made a gallant137 one by now, if he had had other men's chances. He will find he does his militia work well; and it will be a new interest, and a new pride, and a new life to him. And meanwhile, madam, what you have said to me is sacred. I do not pretend to advise or interfere. Only tell me if I can be of use—how, when, and where—and command me as your servant."
And Tom departed, having struck another root; and was up at four the next morning (he never worked at night; for, he said, he never could trust after-dinner brains), drawing out a detailed report of the Pentremochyn cottages, which he sent to Lord Minchampstead with—
"And your lordship will excuse my saying, that to put the cottages into the state in which your lordship, with your known wish for progress of all kinds, would wish to see them is a responsibility which I dare not take on myself, as it would involve a present outlay138 of not less than ￡450. This sum would be certainly repaid to your Lordship and your tenants139, in the course of the next three years, by the saving in poor-rates; an opinion for which I subjoin my grounds drawn140 from the books of the medical officer, Mr. Heale: but the responsibility and possible unpopularity, which employing so great a sum would involve, is more than I can, in the present dependent condition of poor-law medical officers, dare to undertake, in justice to Mr. Heale my employer, save at your special command. I am bound, however, to inform your lordship, that this outlay would, I think, perfectly141 defend the hamlets, not only from that visit of the cholera142 which we have every reason to expect next summer, but also from those zymotic diseases which (as your lordship will see by my returns) make up more than sixty-five per cent of the aggregate143 sickness of the estate."
Which letter the old Cotton Lord put in his pocket, rode into Whitbury therewith, and showed it to Mark Armsworth.
"Well, Mr. Armsworth, what am I to do?"
"Well, my Lord; I told you what sort of a man you'd have to do with; one that does his work thoroughly, and, I think, pays you a compliment, by thinking that you want it done thoroughly."
Lord Minchampstead was of the same opinion; but he did not say so. Few, indeed, have ever heard Lord Minchampstead give his opinion: though many a man has seen him act on it.
"I'll send down orders to my agent."
"Don't."
"Why, then, my good friend?"
"Agents are always in league with farmers, or guardians144, or builders, or drain-tile makers145, or attorneys, or bankers, or somebody; and either you'll be told that the work don't need doing; or have a job brewed146 out of it, to get off a lot of unsaleable drain-tiles, or cracked soil-pans; or to get farm ditches dug, and perhaps the highway rates saved building culverts, and fifty dodges beside. I know their game; and you ought, too, by now, my lord, begging your pardon."
"Perhaps I do, Mark," said his lordship with a chuckle147.
"So, I say, let the man that found the fox, run the fox, and kill the fox, and take the brush home."
"And so it shall be," quoth my Lord Minchampstead.
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1
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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2
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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5
doctrine
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| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
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6
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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7
dame
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| n.女士 | |
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8
lotion
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| n.洗剂 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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10
dodges
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| n.闪躲( dodge的名词复数 )；躲避；伎俩；妙计v.闪躲( dodge的第三人称单数 )；回避 | |
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11
ailment
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| n.疾病，小病 | |
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12
uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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13
diagnosis
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| n.诊断，诊断结果，调查分析，判断 | |
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14
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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15
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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16
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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17
gratis
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| adj.免费的 | |
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18
ailments
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| 疾病（尤指慢性病），不适( ailment的名词复数 ) | |
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19
sanitary
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| adj.卫生方面的，卫生的，清洁的，卫生的 | |
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20
epidemics
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| n．流行病 | |
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21
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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22
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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23
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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24
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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25
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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26
seaman
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| n.海员，水手，水兵 | |
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27
vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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28
indefatigable
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| adj.不知疲倦的，不屈不挠的 | |
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29
protruding
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| v.（使某物）伸出，（使某物）突出( protrude的现在分词 )；凸 | |
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30
jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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31
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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32
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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33
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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34
insinuating
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| adj.曲意巴结的，暗示的v.暗示( insinuate的现在分词 )；巧妙或迂回地潜入；（使）缓慢进入；慢慢伸入 | |
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35
draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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36
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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37
ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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38
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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39
testy
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| adj.易怒的；暴躁的 | |
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40
humbug
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| n.花招，谎话，欺骗 | |
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41
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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42
buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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43
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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44
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
delirium
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| n. 神智昏迷,说胡话;极度兴奋 | |
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46
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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47
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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48
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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49
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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51
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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52
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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53
pugnacious
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| adj.好斗的 | |
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54
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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55
grizzly
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| adj.略为灰色的，呈灰色的；n.灰色大熊 | |
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56
ribs
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| n.肋骨( rib的名词复数 )；（船或屋顶等的）肋拱；肋骨状的东西；（织物的）凸条花纹 | |
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57
audacity
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| n.大胆，卤莽，无礼 | |
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58
witty
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| adj.机智的，风趣的 | |
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59
proficient
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| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
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60
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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61
glands
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| n.腺( gland的名词复数 ) | |
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62
bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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63
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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64
dames
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| n.（在英国）夫人（一种封号），夫人（爵士妻子的称号）( dame的名词复数 )；女人 | |
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65
aristocrat
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| n.贵族，有贵族气派的人，上层人物 | |
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66
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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67
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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68
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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69
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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70
squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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71
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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72
filthy
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| adj.卑劣的；恶劣的，肮脏的 | |
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73
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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74
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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75
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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76
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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77
intrigue
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| vt.激起兴趣，迷住；vi.耍阴谋；n.阴谋，密谋 | |
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78
grudges
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| 不满，怨恨，妒忌( grudge的名词复数 ) | |
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79
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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80
recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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81
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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82
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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83
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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84
confide
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| v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
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85
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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86
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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87
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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88
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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89
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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90
pickpocket
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| n.扒手；v.扒窃 | |
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91
grumbles
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| 抱怨( grumble的第三人称单数 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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92
prosodies
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| n.韵文学( prosody的名词复数 )；诗体学；（某语言的）韵律（学）；诗体学者 | |
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93
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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94
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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95
parable
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| n.寓言，比喻 | |
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96
backbone
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| n.脊骨，脊柱，骨干；刚毅，骨气 | |
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97
everlasting
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| adj.永恒的，持久的，无止境的 | |
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98
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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99
valiant
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| adj.勇敢的，英勇的；n.勇士，勇敢的人 | |
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100
vipers
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| n.蝰蛇( viper的名词复数 )；毒蛇；阴险恶毒的人；奸诈者 | |
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101
adders
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| n.加法器，（欧洲产）蝰蛇（小毒蛇），（北美产无毒的）猪鼻蛇( adder的名词复数 ) | |
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102
hooting
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的现在分词 )； 倒好儿； 倒彩 | |
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103
defile
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| v.弄污，弄脏；n.(山间)小道 | |
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104
languishing
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| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
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105
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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106
bind
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| vt.捆，包扎；装订；约束；使凝固；vi.变硬 | |
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107
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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108
conqueror
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| n.征服者，胜利者 | |
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109
supplanting
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| 把…排挤掉，取代( supplant的现在分词 ) | |
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moors
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| v.停泊，系泊（船只）( moor的第三人称单数 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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112
jobbers
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| n.做零活的人( jobber的名词复数 )；营私舞弊者；股票经纪人；证券交易商 | |
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113
encumbered
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| v.妨碍，阻碍，拖累( encumber的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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115
traitors
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| 卖国贼( traitor的名词复数 )； 叛徒； 背叛者； 背信弃义的人 | |
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116
slumbered
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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117
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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118
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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119
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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120
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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121
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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122
crave
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| vt.渴望得到，迫切需要，恳求，请求 | |
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123
eyebrow
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| n.眉毛，眉 | |
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124
nostril
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| n.鼻孔 | |
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125
haughtily
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| adv. 傲慢地, 高傲地 | |
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126
articulation
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| n.（清楚的）发音；清晰度，咬合 | |
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127
displeased
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| a.不快的 | |
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128
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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129
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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130
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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132
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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133
nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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134
shaft
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| n.(工具的)柄，杆状物 | |
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135
militia
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| n.民兵，民兵组织 | |
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136
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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137
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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138
outlay
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| n.费用，经费，支出；v.花费 | |
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139
tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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140
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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141
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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142
cholera
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| n.霍乱 | |
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143
aggregate
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| adj.总计的，集合的；n.总数；v.合计；集合 | |
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144
guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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145
makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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146
brewed
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| 调制( brew的过去式和过去分词 )； 酝酿； 沏（茶）； 煮（咖啡） | |
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147
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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